Cupid and The Sleep Avenger
by CatrinaSL
Summary: Sometimes when you go on a sleep strike to make a point to your scientists, you end up getting put to bed by your favorite Avenger. ...Or was that a dream?
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Marvel Cinematic Universe. But I have been sleep deprived; it's more fun than being drunk (but I don't recommend it because it's dangerous long-term, **Jane**. Seriously, go read the wikipedia article).

* * *

It was Tuesday afternoon and Clint was relaxing in the common area sharpening a knife. Steve was silently taking in a biopic, wearing earbuds as he watched so as not to disturb the quiet of Clint's Tuesday Afternoon Knife Sharpening ritual.

And then the elevator doors opened.

"Darcy, no!" came Doctor Foster's voice, as both of them tumbled out.

"Jane, you're my favorite scientist, don't even listen to anything Tony says, he's a lying liar who liiiiies," Darcy confessed, as the 120-pounds-soaking-wet astrophysicist attempted to scoop her up off the floor.

Clint glanced at Steve, who pulled one earbud out and eyed the scene, then gave Clint a look. "Not it," he claimed, then popped the earbud back in.

Clint sighed and sheathed the knife.

"Could you use some help, there, Doctor?" he asked.

"Oh, thank you, _god_."

As he hefted her assistant into a bridal carry, Clint squinted at Doctor Foster. "Don't tell me this is the result of some science gone bad..."

"No, nothing like that," the doctor replied, stretching her back. "It's..." A guilty look stole across her face. "She sort of went on strike, to show me and Bruce how dangerous it is to go without sleep when we're working on an important project."

Darcy tilted her head up and looked at Clint out of one open eye. "You're pretty," she accused.

"I guess I get the message," Doctor Foster admitted, cringing when Darcy threw her arms around Clint's neck. "She's going to be so mad at me if I let her—" she was interrupted by Darcy smacking a kiss on Clint's cheek.

"Darcy, _no_!" Foster chided again, unable to prevent Darcy from snuggling her face up against Clint's neck.

He cleared his throat as Darcy's breath brushed across it. "Which door is hers?" he asked pointedly.

"Sorry, I totally..." Doctor Foster darted forward. "I've got a lot of work downstairs that needs doing, so," she made a very apologetic face. "Would you mind?" She went to the third door on the right and nudged it open with a hip. "Her bedroom is the one on the left."

Clint sighed. "No problem. You just get back to the world-saving science."

Doctor Foster smiled. "Thanks so much for your help."

Clint kicked over an unnecessary ottoman on the way through the living room, and almost dropped Darcy as he tried the bedroom doorknob.

"You're my favorite Avenger," Darcy told him as he searched in vain for the light switch.

"Thanks for that; I'm my favorite Avenger, too," he said, deciding to strike out blindly and hope to find the bed sooner than he found a dresser.

"Aw, I knew we'd have something in common!"

Clint snorted. "How long have you been awake?" he asked. He inched across the room, determined not to get hurt bumbling through Darcy's bedroom.

"Couple'a days. Jane can do almost a week, though. Those are the times where it could go either way: the world. Like, she could blow it up or cure cancer. If I can get her to sleep more often, I could save the world, like, a whole bunch of times. You guys should make _me_ an Avenger. The Sleep Avenger! I can wear fuzzy pajama pants and have a blankie as a cape."

"That sounds more comfortable than most of the stuff Nat wears," Clint allowed.

Then disaster struck: he tripped. They were going down.

But then they didn't seem to have any injuries, and Darcy giggled. "Hawkeye's in my bed!" she sang.

He sighed and tried to extricate himself, but she had her arms around his neck, fingers playing in the short hair on the back of his head. "Okay, goodnight," he told her, finding the edge of the bed with his knee and cursing it for tripping him.

"Nooo!" Darcy objected. "Don't I get a bedtime story?"

"Once upon a time there was a stubborn lab assistant who stayed up far too late and terrified her scientists into submission. They all lived happily ever after, the end."

Though he couldn't see it, Clint could almost _feel_ Darcy pouting. "Okay, well, the Clint's Notes cut wasn't half bad, but I'd love to read the unedited version."

"Can I go now?"

"Don't I get a glass of water or a goodnight kiss?"

"How am I supposed to get you a glass of water if you won't let go of me?"

"Just the kiss, then," Darcy decided.

"I am not going to kiss you while you're drunk on sleep deprivation," Clint argued.

There was a moment of silence, and then Darcy said, "Does that mean you'd kiss me if I wasn't?"

Clint let out another sigh and was glad that the room was dark, because he didn't want anyone, most of all Darcy, to see him blushing. "I... think anyone would," he assured her.

"I'm not asking about _anyone_ ," Darcy pressed. She relaxed her hold on him, but Clint didn't move away. "Would _you_ , Clint Barton, kiss me right now if I wasn't loopy from being awake for a bunch too many hours?"

"That's not really a fair question," he replied. "You wouldn't be asking if you weren't loopy." He cleared his throat. "And we wouldn't be in _your bedroom_."

He felt, rather than saw her nod, and she pulled her arms away from his neck. "Goodnight, Cupid."

He stood and let out a chuckle. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He heard Darcy roll over. "Arrows, hearts, yours, mine," she slurred.

After making his way to the door, he turned, and wondering if she was even still awake, asked, "Are you by any chance going to remember any of this later?"

A muffled giggle was the reply.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. If you do, then maybe we can have this conversation again sometime."

When he returned to the common room and his whetstone, he found Steve giving him a surprised look.

"What?"

"You weren't pressed into service as a teddy bear," Steve observed, without pausing his movie.

"Be pretty weird if she woke up snuggling with somebody she couldn't remember going to bed with," Clint shot back.

"Weird, maybe," Steve replied. "But probably not unwelcome. Even _I_ can tell she's got the biggest crush the world has ever seen."

Clint frowned. "She's not in her right mind; I'm not an asshole."

Steve nodded in approval. "Looks like Tony owes me fifty bucks."

* * *

The common room was crowded when Darcy ran in the next evening.

"Help, help!" she cried.

Natasha jumped up. Thor knocked over a chair.

"What is it?!" Bruce asked.

"I need toothpaste; I'm out of toothpaste!"

"Darcy, oh my god, you scared us half to death!" Jane sank back down into her seat as Thor righted the wronged furniture.

"Also Clint;" Darcy continued. "I don't remember much about when you put me to bed, Jane, but there was something about Clint and kissing and so if I'm gonna do anything remotely connected to either of those things, _I need toothpaste_."

"The last time I saw Barton was at the shooting range," Natasha volunteered.

"Great. Go get him for me. Or get me toothpaste first, and then go get him."

"Why do you need toothpaste?" Thor asked innocently.

"Because you can't kiss a hot archer with morning breath!" Darcy declared, brandishing her toothbrush at him. They all stared up at her in silence. "Why are none of you people helping me? You are the worst superheroes ever!"

Darcy turned to storm back to her room, but stopped short so that she wouldn't barrel into "Cupid." They locked eyes.

He was holding a tube of toothpaste.

She presented her brush.

He squeezed out a glob of mint-flavored paste.

She rammed it in her mouth.

"Be right back," she said, around the cleansing ritual.

When Darcy returned, Clint was missing. "Ugh, I thought he would stay! Now I have to find a super spy in one of the biggest buildings in New York!"

"You could wait for him to come back," Natasha suggested.

"Could _you_?!" Darcy retorted, and stormed off down the hallway.

Luckily, before she'd gotten twenty feet, Clint stepped out of his apartment.

"Where are you going?" he asked, pulling the door closed behind him.

"Uh…" Darcy replied eloquently, suddenly unsure of herself. "I was looking for you?"

He shrugged. "Here I am."

"Okay." Darcy nodded. "So… I think I had a dream about you," she told him.

He shook his head. "You didn't."

Darcy's eyes narrowed. "How do you know I didn't?"

"Well, I guess it depends on what it was about." Clint shifted his weight. "What was it about?"

"Just kiss already!" came a shout from the other room.

Darcy grinned. "Bruce ships us."

Clint reached for Darcy and pulled her close. "So do I."

* * *

 **Author's Note (March 18th, 2016):** This one is my favorite. Got behind the scenes babbling on my blog iwillwriteyourfic DOT blogspot DOT com, and I'm currently doing daily writing updates on my tumblr catrinasl.


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